


A Ballad for Boys Caught in Storms of Stars

by glittagal333



Series: First Order Academy: Stellulcus [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cadets, Gen, Locked In, Military Academy, Swearing, Underage Smoking, Unresolved Tension, Xenophobia, Young Hux, and some super unresolved tension, hey look it has its own tag, sea-space shanties, space racism, starring: a bunch of teenage boys under academy lockdown, that awkward feeling when two of your friends are fighting and you're kind of just... there, will add more tags if needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7797478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittagal333/pseuds/glittagal333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A particularly heavy asteroid storm knocks the academy into emergency lockdown. Nobody reacts well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Ballad for Boys Caught in Storms of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This particular part is very character exploration heavy. I love me some character exploration. I'm also very happy with how this piece came out! Like, super happy.
> 
> Continuing with the theme of exploring Hux's relationship with each of his dorm mates - this one is Drathur's. Too good and pure for Hux. Too good and pure for us all.  
> There are themes of space racism, I guess, in this piece. If you think I should tag it better, please lemme know, because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by being a terrible tagger.
> 
> Speech written between pointed brackets, which you'll probably know better as the symbols for 'less than' and 'greater than' (which won't show up in the notes section no matter how hard I toil) means it's in a foreign tongue, translated for your reading pleasure. I hope you're ready for some sea-shanties, folks.  
> Questions? Comments? Want to just throw sticks at me? Tumblr's a good place for all of that!: http://bowdowntomama.tumblr.com
> 
> Once again, I apologise for any spelling/grammar errors - I don't have a beta, and I do try my hardest to pick 'em all out before I publish.

**_\+ Stellulcus Academy, Unknown Regions, approx 15 ABY +_**  

 

The planet of Stellulcus was subject to asteroid storms every three days or so. It was a fact every cadet was told upon arriving at the academy so that they would be prepared for the noise and incredible lack of outdoor activity. The teachers definitely took their respective groups of students outside if they had a rare patch between the asteroid storms and the dust storms that often followed in their wake as cabin fever was a very likely reality for all of them otherwise.   
Bored cadets tended to take their restlessness out on each other, and blood was not easy to wash out of their very white uniforms. 

At first, the noise of the storms was absolutely unignorable – the constant Clang! Clang! Clang!-ing against the academy's metal but assuredly asteroid-proof walling on the upper floors made the first few weeks of classes tests of patience for everyone involved – but over time, one could learn to tune out the racket.    
It soon became a sort of white noise, even at night when the rumbling could be heard from the dormitories on the underground floors. Cadets adapt. In the middle of war, Lieutenant Nidor had said to them, the weather will be ally to no man's army. 

"Stellulcus is a truly unique environment for you all to be training in," she explained. "The rebel armies have not trained under asteroids, but you all will have!" 

Nobody cared to point out that they were kept indoors during these storms and so did not really have any experience in them. It wasn't worth the trouble or the nightmare-inducing glare from her heavy brow. 

Four and a half months into their first year at the academy, every cadet had truly learned what to expect with asteroid storms – noise, and a glint of hope that their teacher would grow tired of talking over the particularly loud ones and allow them to return to their dorms.   
Today was no exception to these expectations. 

"There is no shame in being a terrain scout instead of a soldier! Without terrain scouts, soldiers run into mines and BOOM!" Mr. Ohlet slammed both hands down on his desk to add onomatopoeia to his statement. "Arms! Legs! Intestines! All over the battlefield before the battle has even begun!" 

Ohlet was a short, wrinkled, bald man with a grey beard and an eye patch over his left eye – he stressed time and time again that he had seen dozens of governments rise and fall in his lifetime, but the Empire's time in power was the only time the galaxy had run the way it should have. His right arm was a robotic prosthetic that clacked loudly everytime it bent at the elbow, with shiny silver fingers that were beginning to rust in places.   
Hux admired the man for his volume and rather graphic war stories, even if they did sound a little fictionalised in places. 

"Boys with good legs and eyes make good scouts! Scouts are sharp and lithe! Too delicate to set off mines, see? My childhood friend Rhylet Fritz was a scout for more armies than you could count on both hands! Never got a single medal!" Ohlet continued. "Fried by stray fire during the Battle of Endor! He saved more lives than they took that day over his entire lifetime of service! A terrain scout is the smarts in a box of burly, brutish soldiers!" 

The clanging of asteroid storms on the academy's outer walls was normally no match for Ohlet's constant booming, but today seemed to be particularly bad. It didn't help that this particular Combat Strategies class happened to be taking place in one of the rooms above the ground rather than under it. There were several lucky, lucky cadets on Floor –1 who weren't getting the worst of the noise. 

"Kriffing _stars_ ," Trentias said to Hux in an undertone. "I'm going to have a cluster headache after all this noise. I don't know what's worse – Ohlot yelling every word that comes out of his mouth, or this kriffing storm." 

"I don't mind Ohlet. He just expects us to listen to him, rather than have us do any work ourselves." 

"Pft. All you need for that is AT-AT and an Imperial trivia holo. At least he doesn't raise his voice." 

Hux rolled his eyes at Trentias' fussiness. There truly was no satisfying him. 

"A terrain scout needs to have cartography mastered to its finest detail! You need to be able to make maps while you walk! Sometimes you won't have a fancy schmancy datapad – sometimes you'll have to make do with pencil and paper! Rhylet made more than half of his maps on paper because his commanders were too stuffy to give him anything better, but their fields of battle were always clearly mapped out! Nobody Rhylet worked for ever had a soldier go KA-BLAM!" another slamming of the hands. "On the battlefield!" 

Drathur raised his hand, which caught Ohlet's one working eye. 

"Elonglass! What is it?" 

"How did the scouts go about--?" 

A particularly loud crash against the walls from the storm drowned out the last of his sentence, the shock of which made him wince a little. As soon as the noise had died down, he tried again. 

"How did the scouts go about mapping aquatic planets, sir?" 

"Aquatic planets?! You don't need to map an aquatic planet!" Ohlet replied, scoffing. "An aquatic planet's no use to anyone as a battlefield, boy, unless you're a Gungan! Are you a Gungan, Elonglass?" 

"No, sir – but Do'liith's an aquatic planet, ya?" 

"Do'liith?! Out in Wild Space?! Why'd you think of that one, Elonglass?" 

"I'm," Drathur furrowed his brow. "I'm _from_ Do'liith, sir. Born and raised." 

"Stars above, they'll be recruiting in Mustafar next," Ohlet made his way slowly over to Drathur's desk in the mid section of the room, one eye narrowed. "You listen to me, Elonglass! I've heard stories about men from the Mapping Corps who went to Do'liith! They were surprised to find anything remotely human there at all! Do you know what they say about Do'liith, Elonglass?" 

"No, sir." 

"They said that the locals are easy to swindle because most of them can't read or write! Nobody has properly mapped Do'liith because there's no advantage in mapping it! An aquatic planet is no use to anyone as a battlefield, like I said! Do you understand?" 

"I... y-yes, sir." 

"You should be lucky they managed to scrape you off the surface of it!" Ohlet haa-rumphed and made his way back to the head of the room. "Heavily forested planets with soft soil are the most sought after as battlefield terrain! Who can tell me why?" 

Another loud crash stopped anyone from immediately answering the question. Trentias rubbed his temples and shut his eyes in irritation. 

"Pault!" Ohlet declared the minimal hand movement as his intent to volunteer. "Give me the answer!" 

"What? I don't know, sir..!" 

"Then why'd you raise your hand?!" 

"I didn't raise my hand--!" 

The loudest crash yet seemed to take every one of the cadets by surprise (and also allowed Trentias a space in which to swear loudly into his hands). Ohlet looked incredibly unbothered by it all. 

"Pault! An answer!" 

"… Trees provide cover?" Trentias guessed, which was far better than his internal guess of 'Something to do with kriffing Ewoks, sir, I don't know? It seemed to work for the Rebels.'. 

He was saved from Ohlet's even louder wrath by the comms systems crackling to life – Lieutenant Nidor's voice echoed all over the room, but it was cutting out in places, and loaded with static. 

[" _This is your Lieu—message to all cadets and staff_ _across_ _th_ _—dormitories immediately, due to a—emergency lockdown of the aca—I repeat; this is your Lieutenant—particularly wild_ _stor_ _—commencing shortly in_ _orde_ _—you for your co-operation._ "] 

"Emergency lockdown?!" one of the cadets cried. "What's going on?!" 

"She said to get back to our dorms, right?" 

"Commencing shortly! We need to get out of here now!" 

"Hold on! Nobody leaves this room unless I say so!" Ohlet roared, slamming his hands on his desk again. "We have no idea what the woman said, exactly, so we're waiting for full confirmation!" 

"But she did repeat the message – we just couldn't hear the damn thing!" another cadet was already standing up from his desk. "I'm not being trapped in _here_ during lockdown!" 

Confused and concerned chatter quickly consumed the room – Trentias looked to Hux and grabbed Darin's sleeve from his desk beside him.   
Darin looked incredibly conflicted. 

"What do we, uh, do?" 

"Just grab DiGarza's attention for me, AT-AT!" Trentias told him. "Then we can decide as a group that we're definitely not kriffing staying here!" 

"That's not really a group deci--" 

"Get DiGarza, for kriff's sake!" 

Hux cast his eyes over the room, trying to find Drathur amongst the newly birthed panic. Several cadets were out of their seats at this point, and Ohlet was yelling louder than ever to try and restore some sort of order to the room.   
It was not working. 

"We're gettin' out of here, right?" Markus asked, arriving by Trentias' side and slinging an arm around him (much to his horror). "I'm not sittin' out a storm with Ohlet. Someone'd get punched with all the tension." 

"See? He gets it!" Trentias said whilst wriggling out of Markus' grip. "Let's get out of here already!" 

"But we don't know--" 

"Stickler, you know about sixty percent of what the lady said," Markus hoisted Darin from his seat by the back of his collar. "So let's _go_ , yeah?" 

"… S-Sure thing." 

"Wait! Where are you all going?!" Ohlet snapped, watching crowds of cadets leave the classroom in a hurried fashion and very well knowing he was powerless to stop them. "Directly disobeying the orders of a higher up would get you _executed_ outside of this academy!" 

He would nonetheless follow them all out only seconds later. If you can’t beat them, join them. 

"Crimson! Let's get a move on!" Markus called to Hux. 

"Hold on – we're missing Elonglass." 

Trentias looked more impatient and irritated than Hux had seen him in quite some time. 

"Look – you three go ahead. I'll follow you with Elonglass when I find him." 

"But what if you, uh, get locked outside of the dorm room?" Darin asked concernedly. 

"He's only in the classroom, Subaltyrn. It won't take me an age to find him. Go with Pault and DiGarza." 

Markus practically dragged Darin away before he could object further, and Trentias followed after the two of them once he'd given Hux a quick nod. 

Drathur's seat in the middle of class meant Hux had to shove large quantities of babbling, conflicted cadets out of the way (with some difficulty, being smaller than practically all of them) in order to find the last of 376B – he found him still sitting, eyes darting between all of the bodies around him.   
He looked very confused, but not panicked, exactly. 

"Elonglass," Hux tapped his shoulder. "We're heading back to the dormitory. Come along." 

"Oh! Okay," Drathur laughed somewhat nervously. "I'm glad someone else made the decision. I didn't really know what to do." 

Drathur really was the oddity in their group. The wildcard. Whereas the other three occupants of 367B were rooted within the Rim their entire lives and thus had fairly predictable reactions to the appropriate situations presented to them, Drathur had grown up with nothing but the sea in every direction as far as the eye could see.   
Hux recalled him being excited at the prospect of asteroid storms the first time the cadets had been told of Stellulcus' weather patterns. Stars falling from the sky. That's what he thought they were. 

Shoving past still undecided cadets again, Hux lead Drathur out of the classroom and into the halls of the academy's ground floor.   
It was strangely empty – more than likely because, unlike Ohlet, every other staff member had the sense to let their cadets return to their dorms once they heard the phrases 'emergency lockdown' and 'dormitories immediately'. 

"We should take the elevator, ya?" Drathur said. "It'll be quicker than the stairs." 

"True – but I don't want to risk the lockdown activating whilst we're in the bloody thing. We'll take the stairs." 

"Whatever you say." 

Another crash rocked the academy building – this time, the obnoxiously bright lighting (apparently to keep cadets awake and alert) flickered off for a moment. Hux had to wonder what would become of them if a storm even worse than this one were to hit them.   
How asteroid-proofed could a building really be? The weather is ally to no man's army. 

The stairwell was empty as well by the time Hux and Drathur had gotten to it. Had everyone really been this quick to return to their dorms, or had they all taken the elevators? It was an incredibly risky idea. Imagine if they indeed did get stuck.   
For hours and hours, depending on how long the building needed to be in lockdown. They'd either suffocate in the tiny space or kill each other in a panic. 

They were on the ground floor. They needed to get to Floor -4. Eight flights of stairs, two to a floor, before the lockdown initiated.   
Rushing it was also risky, though - if the building took a shaking again, a misplaced step would result in a broken leg and a nasty fall. 

Stars. Hux needed to stop thinking and start going. 

"Come on, Elonglass – quickly, but not too quickly." 

Drathur grew up on Do'liith on a floating shanty town in the middle of the ocean. Every single day, he would have to swim to find food. Many children on the planet were very accomplished swimmers before the age of five.   
He was very physically fit. He had longer, more powerful legs than Hux. Eight flights of stairs, no matter how long, would not be much trouble to him. 

Hux, on the other hand, was the fifth worst in his group's agility classes. It was pure adrenaline that was keeping him going, and boy, it was not adding much to his terrible stamina. Ordinarily, he would brush off comments about his physical strengths (or lack thereof) – he was incredible shot, and had a strategic mind rather than a body built for fighting – but now?   
Now he was cursing his tiny, awful body. 

Too kind for his own good, as the others often said of him, Drathur waited for Hux to catch up at the end of each flight of stairs. Four down, four to go. 

"You okay, Armitage?" 

"I'm _fine_ ," lied an incredibly not-fine Hux, swallowing hard and trying to control his breathing. 

"We can take it a little slower if you need to, ya?" 

"No, no – lockdown is imminent, Elonglass. We need to keep up the pace." 

Just four more. Just four more. He could do this.   
He was about fifty-two percent sure he could do this. 

They could hear more asteroids colliding with the upper, exposed floors of the academy, sounding moreso like dull, ominous thuds from the lower floors. The building shook ever-so-slightly, even from the underground sections.   
It was incredibly unreassuring in regards to the building's strength. 

"Hey," Drathur said at the end of the sixth flight of stairs. "I could carry you down the last two if--" 

"That is absolutely _not_ happening, Elonglass," the memories of being hoisted away by Darin during their first day at the academy were returning to Hux's mind. "It's two more flights of stairs, I can manage it." 

"You sure?" 

"Look, you can go ahead and make sure the door to Floor –4 is open. Okay? I'll catch up to you." 

Drathur looked slightly conflicted about this idea, but nodded and ran ahead. Hux quietly cursed his physical fitness and started on flight seven.   
There were black spots in his vision, but that was nothing new. It happened all of the time in Agility classes. Darin had fussed over him endlessly upon finding out, and Markus had laughed until his face was an impressive shade of red. 

"Geez, you're really holdin' out for a job where you just sit all menacin' in a big chair, huh, Crimson?" 

Hux had very nearly replied that an emperor fit that description nicely, but he was too busy wheezing in and out every breath.   
Kriffing stars. 

"Armitage?" came Drathur's voice from the lower floor. "You okay?" 

"Is the door open, Elonglass?" 

"Yeah! All the lights are going out in the common area, though. I mean, you can still see everything, it's just a little dark--" 

The door slammed shut in the middle of Drathur's sentence, which made him jump. 

**[EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN ACTIVATED. EXCESS POWER REROUTED TO ACADEMY SHIELDING SYSTEMS. PLEASE AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.]**

Neither of them said anything for a moment - for one thing, Hux was still catching his breath – letting the crushing feeling sink nice and slowly into each of them respectively.   
Oh, how Hux wanted to shriek and swear and slam his bony little hands into something. Now he finally knew why Trentias acted the way he did. Still, he resisted this urge and dragged himself down the remaining flight and a half of stairs, finding Drathur standing by the door that would've ordinarily let them into Floor –4.    
He was chewing his bottom lip, eyes going from the door to Hux's disshelved figure. 

"Well," he finally broke the silence, managing a smile. "at least we're together and not alone, ya?" 

It was so far from what Hux wanted to hear at this point, but his exhausted, frustrated mind actually managed to find some sort of small comfort in the fact.   
Yes. At least he wasn't alone to dwell in self-loathing of his physical fitness. 

"How long do the star storms tend to last?" 

" _Asteroid_ storms, Elonglass," Hux corrected him. "I don't think we've had one last any longer than about... two and a half hours so far." 

"That's not too bad! We'll pass the time no problem!" 

Drathur's enthusiasm almost made Hux believe it. If he actually planned on assisting the new Empire's armies after his academy training was finished, he'd be just the man to inject some sort of hope into the veins of weary soldiers.   
He was an average fighter. Blasters were completely foreign to him. His belief in teamwork and refusal to give up were his strongest points, and could definitely be harnessed into something useful if he were willing to put the time into it. 

At least, that's what Hux thought. 

The redhead sat himself down on the bottom step of the stairs behind him and sighed wearily – his breath had finally returned to a somewhat regular pace and his mind was returning to work. Two and a half hours. It was a guess, but the best sort of guess they had at the time.   
Two and a half hours in the academy stairwell. 

"I wish we could see them," Drathur spoke up, his accent echoing in the empty space. "The star storms, you know? There are no real windows in this place, no way to see the sky." 

" _Asteroid_ storms." 

"Right, right. Asteroid storms. But like I said, there is no way to see the sky in this place unless we're outside. It's strange." 

"Why? Plenty of space crafts have little to no windows. Space always looks the same, Elonglass." 

"If you learn to read the sky, you can learn a lot of things. My mama taught me how to tell how long a day would be without a clock; how the weather would be by the colour of the sky and the shape of the clouds, and how the sea would react to it in turn. You needed to know these things in order to survive on Do'liith," a pause. "It's taking a lot of getting used to... not seeing the sky all of the time." 

He looked a little downcast. Hux cleared his throat.   
He was _not_ going to deal with emotional issues for two and a half hours. 

"Are you close with your parents?" 

"Yeah! Really close. There's not really any other way to be on my home planet. Every town is only as good as it's inhabitants allow it to be, ya? It's community. Loneliness would not get you far on Do'liith. My papa taught me how to find food in the sea, and my mama taught me how to read the sky and every song her mama sang to her when she was little," Drathur smiled, a bright, lovely and genuine thing. "I have two little brothers. They're twins, ya? Exact copies of the other – when they were born, I helped my mama raise them whilst my papa would be out in the sea looking for fish and greens. Now that they're a little older, they look like me – same curly hair and all." 

Lieutenant Nidor had allowed Drathur to keep his mess of brown curls provided that he kept them tied back and not a single one hung in the way of his face – a rather merciful compromise, considering that the less co-operative cadets had had their offending hairstyles shaven off – so during the day, they were indeed pulled back as tight as he could get them to be into a bun, with a narrowly wrapped bandana keeping any loose locks from his face.   
There were members of staff and cadets alike who had threatened to cut all of them off if he stepped out of line. Whether or not Drathur let these words get to him, he certainly put on a brave face and hadn't broken any rules within the academy thus far. 

(What he didn't know was that Markus had forcibly ripped out clumps of hair of some of the cadets who had made these threats. Hux had provided the names. And watched.) 

"What about you? Your papa is an important person in the academy, right? What about your mama?" 

Hux immediately stiffened, eyes looking to where the floor met the step he sat on and formed a sharp corner. That was Stellulcus Academy – all white and metal and sharp corners. 

"I wonder if the others made it back to 367B in time," he mulled aloud, dodging Drathur's question. It was a legitimate query that neither of them had considered until now. 

"Oh yeah! I hope they're not worried about us or anything." 

 

 

"That stupid little kriffer took probably took the stairs instead of the elevator. Eight flights of stairs!" Trentias cackled loudly, exhaling smoke from his nostrils and giving off the impression of a very well manicured dragon. "He can barely do two kriffing laps around the Agility track!" 

"But what if they're stuck somewhere dangerous?" Darin, who had not relaxed for a single moment since they had left Ohlet's classroom, asked. "They could be there for hours!" 

"More importantly, what happens if one of us needs t' piss?" Markus asked. "I don't think the refresher door is workin'." 

Trentias' laughing stopped instantly. 

"They wouldn't do that to us, would they?" 

Nobody moved. 

"Check it out, would ya, Stickler?" 

Darin reluctantly got up from his bed and hit the door control panel for the refresher. It didn't budge. The horror building in the room was almost tangible (and mainly belonged to Darin and Trentias). 

"Did nobody kriffing think of bathroom breaks in the middle of lockdowns?!" Trentias asked, voice shrill. 

"Didn't your dad pay to have this place built?" Markus snorted. "Did that include these lockdown procedures and mech? Is your dad the reason we can't piss right now?" 

"Sh-sh- _shut up_! I'm sure he didn't actually approve those kinds of things! It was whatever idiot programmed the lockdown specifics!" 

"Ohhh. So he just paid for the reason we can’t piss right now. You know, actively handed money to people so that we couldn't piss." 

Trentias glowered at Markus and took a deep drag of his cigarra. 

"Guys? We still, uh, don't know where Armitage and Drathur are..!" Darin reminded them, trying desperately to dissolve the tension between the other two cadets. 

"Well well well," Markus held Trentias' stare whilst addressing Darin. "anyway we could track 'em or somethin'? It's not like they chipped us like smuggled Rathtars." 

"I'm surprised they didn't chip _you_ \--" 

"You think we could, uh, take a guess using the academy blueprints?" Darin interrupted loudly. "T-Trentias? You wanna, uh, try that?" 

Trentias huffed and nodded, climbing down from Hux's bunk to grab his datapad from his own bed where it was buried underneath his pillow - screen somewhat cracked still from its fall, the back of it taped into place, but still very muchso working.   
It soon became the only light source in the room. 

"Hold this for a second."  

Darin gingerly took Trentias' half-finished cigarra between two fingers when it was thrust at him – the blonde cadet needed both hands to enter a surprisingly complex unlocking pattern at speed, glancing up to make sure Markus wasn't memorising the damn thing.   
The academy blueprint holos hovered over the screen for a moment, flickering erratically, before blowing out and expanding to fill a decent portion of the dorm room. There were handwritten notes scattered throughout each and every floor, but particularly the exposed floors that required extra durability from the weather. 

"Is that, uh, your dad's writing?" 

"No," Trentias pointed out a large, over-the-top signature in the corner of Floor –5's holo. "That's my father's signature. It's the only piece of his writing on it." 

"Wow. That's High Galactic lettering." 

"Psh – so what?" 

"I could never get the hang of writing in High Galactic. It's so, uh, loopy." 

"Oh, come _on_. I learned to write in High Galactic before I learned most of my Aurebesh." 

"We're not here to compare kriffin' penmanship, in case you both forgot," Markus said, the eye roll obvious even in his tone of voice. "Thought we were lookin' for Crimson and Bubbly." 

"What we're _really_ here to do is to point out all of the crap places they might have ended up when the lockdown hit," Trentias took back his cigarra and adjusted the blueprint holos to show only the areas between the ground floor and Floor –4. "Imagine if they're stuck on Floor –3 with the bloodthirsty seniors." 

"There's no reason they'd go there!" Darin yelped. 

"Anybody think of them bein' in the hallway? You know, right outside the door?" 

"Nuh-uh. We would have heard Hux wheezing like a dying Tauntaun even from behind the door." 

"Maybe they're just in the common area!" Darin suggested, moreso to ease his own mind. 

"They could still be in Ohlet's classroom. Stars, that would certainly be something. Hux has probably cut up the old bastard with his own robotic arm." 

"Nah, we saw Ohlet bolt with the rest'a us, remember?" 

"Damn. That would've been a win/win situation," Trentias exhaled a cloud of smoke and pointed to the longest structure on the blueprint map. "Then it's probably the stairwell. Like I said - Hux couldn't say no to his own idea and took the stairs instead of the elevator. His brain's the only effective muscle in his body, and even it kriffed him over this time." 

"But Drathur - he's a very, uh, decent runner. He has good legs." 

"You spend'a lotta time lookin' at 'em, Stickler?" Markus ruffled Darin's hair from his top bunk, making the normally taller boy jump and flush. 

"He s-swimmed a lot! I just assumed--!" 

"We all know he's too nice for his own good. I bet you he waited for Hux to keep up with him, and now they're both stuck in the stairwell, and Kelphead's constant upbeat attitude is slowly driving Hux insane, but he won't admit it," Trentias crushed his cigarra against the bunk frame. "Either that, or he's dealing with all of his Do'liithian sea shanties." 

 

 

"<~ _On the sandy shores of_ _Tai'lumphi_ _,_    
_Where I found myself carried from the sea,_    
_I first laid eyes on sweet_ _Sera_ _, aye!_    
_And there was no way I could say goodbye!_  

 _No it's far, far, far too far_    
_Far too far to swim back home!_    
_No it's far, far, far too far_    
_The night and the sea will spit up my bones!_  

 _She said she had come here from afar_    
_Carried by ships that sail the stars_    
_The crooked and evil would not let her be_    
_So here she would stay, surrounded by sea_  

 _No it's far, far, far too far,_    
_Far too far to swim back home!_    
_No it's far, far, far too far_    
_The night and the sea will spit up my bones!_  

 _So I said, "Sweet Sera, stay with me,_    
_I will keep you as guarded as guarded can be!"_    
_She smiled like the sun and she gave me her hand_    
_And I lead her to_ _water from the soft, gentle sand_  

 _But it was far, far, far too far,_    
_Far too far to swim back home!_    
_It was far, far, far too far_    
_The night took our sight and the sea stole our bones!_ ~>" 

There was no denying that Drathur had a lovely voice – nearly every night, Hux heard him singing softly from his bunk even after lights out. Do'liithian was a language full of slow, mouth-wide-open words and intricate shifts in tone.   
Not a single syllable of it seemed rushed. It was a slow language from a planet with long, slow days filled with acts that required patience.    
Hux wasn't sure if he would have the patience to learn Do'liithian, but he was more than willing to listen to Drathur serenade him in it. One small comfort in a place that seemed determined to squash it. 

"Armitage?" 

"Hm?" 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"You might as well, Elonglass. We'll be here a while longer yet." 

"What do you think about me?" 

Hux looked up from where he was twiddling his thumbs to see Drathur wearing a genuinely curious expression. Curious and... concerned?   
What exactly was he expecting to hear? 

"I think you're a charismatic person with quite a nice singing voice," Hux answered honestly. "who perhaps needs to recognise that not all people are deserving of kindness. Why?" 

Drathur's smile was downright bashful, but fleeting. 

"Ah, it's just... what Ohlet said about people from Do'liith, ya? That we can't read or write. That we're easy to trick. He thinks it's a dirtball. I spent a lot of time learning Basic, you know? My papa made sure of it; he said that it was a useful language to know. And my Aurebesh – it's a little messy, but I did learn it. It was hard. There's no written form of Do'liithian, you know. We've never really needed it." 

He drummed his fingers against the still-locked door. 

"I know that people don't like me here. They talk about me like I don't understand what they're saying; about my accent, and my hair, and the fact that none of this is really my fight. They think I'm stupid, Armitage – that just because I'm not from the Core or the Rim that I just... I don't know enough, you know? When people think about planets in Wild Space, they think of non-humans, and solar storms and stuff. Any human _that_ far from the Core must be," he took in a deep breath. "Uncivilized, ya? Savage. But my mama always taught me that kindness and teamwork are things one must practice and preach. I've never known any other way, Armitage." 

Hux didn't really know what to say, for a while. He knew there were enough close-minded tools in this building to keep a Rathtar happily fed for quite some time, but he didn't know that Drathur took everything that fell out of their stupid mouths to heart.   
He always seemed so chipper. He still offered nothing but good-naturedness to everyone he met. Stars, Hux had given up on people a long time ago, but Drathur hadn't.   
Like he said, it was all he knew. 

Hux had to admit to himself that he was one of those people who had initially thought Drathur had hijacked the cause. This wasn't his fight at all – Do'liith knew nothing of the war between the New Republic and the Empire.   
He wasn't dogged in propaganda like Darin – neither was he jaded of the affair to the point of twisting it to his advantage like Markus and his family. 

No. Here Drathur Elonglass was, ready to die for a cause that was not his own, amongst people who had recruited him but still did not want him, because he _could_.    
He didn't have a real reason to fight. His reason to fight was being given the chance to. An Imperial recruitment team had landed on a planet they considered a dirtball full of gullible humans, and Drathur's family saw a chance for him to experience things that nobody else on Do'liith probably ever would. 

And they took it. 

"Consider this, Elonglass – most of the awful little shits we call fellow cadets here were forcibly enrolled. They didn't want to come here, but their families are all followers, fighters, funders of the Empire. It's mandatory for them - if they don't, they'll probably be shunned, and their poor little egos can't take that. But you," Hux stood up from his makeshift seat, folded his arms and raised both eyebrows. "You came to this place – completely foreign in terms of language, social norms and culture – because you could. It was mere opportunity. Do you not see how brave that makes you?" 

Drathur looked a little confused. 

"But why would I be scared?" 

"We're being trained for war, Elonglass. To take back what was ours by force. We could all very well die before we're twenty." 

"Well, when you put it like that, of course someone should be scared, ya? I don't think of all of this in those sorts of terms – I'm thinking about the fact that everything here," a smile spread across his face. "is so new, and different! The world outside of Do'liith is completely different, Armitage. It's too wonderful to be afraid of. Even this, you know? Being stuck in the stairwell with you, because there are stars falling from the sky. I want to see them, Armitage. That's what I'm thinking about right now – I want to see the storm of stars and tell my mama, and my papa and my little brothers about it. I want to see everything I can. There are people who are cruel to me, but you and the others, they aren't. As long as I have all of you, then I'll be okay. You are my community, ya? We can only be as good as we all allow each other to be. That's what my mama told me about working together." 

Well.   
They all had individual academic records. Every class they had taken so far was scored individually. But, Hux supposed, when their more major practical war game examnations came upon them, the life lessons of Drathur's mother would finally allow her son to excel – and whatever unworthy bastards he happened to be grouped up with to excel with him, as a result.   
Hm. Perhaps there was some way to fix the groups. Something Hux would have to look into at a later date. 

"Let's go, Elonglass." he suddenly said, turning around and heading back up the stairs. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Upstairs. To the very top floor of the academy." 

"Why?" 

"Perhaps we might be able to catch a glance of the asteroid storm." 

Thankfully, neither of them had to rush up stairs this time. Floor 1 was a long, long way up – ten flights of stairs, to be exact - but it was not exhausting when climbed at a reasonable pace.   
(It was only a little tiring. There was a big difference between the two.)   
Despite his obvious physical superiority, Drathur kept pace with Hux the entire way, sing-songing in both Basic and Do'liithian. Apparently one of the songs in the latter was one his mother refused to let him sing around her and his younger brothers - "Mama doesn't like dirty songs! My papa taught it to me." - but, much to his delight, the language barrier in the academy meant he could probably sing it anywhere in the building without anyone catching on. 

The rocking on the floors above the ground from the storm was far more noticeable.    
Hux was very sure that there was some sort of small window on the Floor 1 section of the stairwell. They hadn't been to the very top floor of the academy much – there were a few classrooms there, as well as Lieutenant Nidor's office – but Hux had tried to wander around as much of the place as he could, whether he was supposed to be in the places he found or not. 

"Look, Armitage! Look at the sky!" 

Drathur's excited exclaiming confirmed that the window was indeed there - it was a narrow thing, shaped like a squashed rectangle - but it did offer quite the view despite everything. Stellulcus' white, sandy landscape stretched out before them, a lot of it thrown up in the air in what would soon become a commonplace dust storm.   
It hadn't obstructed the view of the sky just yet, though, which was painted in shades of deep blues, purples and black, sprinkled in stars and streaked with the tails of asteroids. Every now and then, one would collide with the planet's surface, spewing up huge clouds of the fine, white sand upon impact. It was not unlike a very beautiful battlefield, if looked at the right way. 

Hux could it admit it did look spectacular. 

"I've never seen a sky like this before..!" Drathur said, awed. "It's beautiful. I wish I could read it." 

"All in good time I'm sure, Elonglass. You're going to see about four years worth of them." 

"You're right!" the Do'liithian boy laughed, the reflection of the sky visible in his wide eyes. "Four years to learn how to read the skies here. I think I can do it in that much time, ya?" 

"Of course--" 

Hux made a strange noise in his throat as Drathur gathered him into a very enthusiastic hug, holding him tight and laughing still. 

"I'm so glad we're friends, Armitage," came his voice from above his head somewhere (Hux was currently pressed into his chest and couldn't see much beyond the uniform jacket that covered it). "I mean... I have to admit I thought you'd be the kind of person who'd stick their nose up at me, because of the person your papa is, ya? Your family are really important people in the Empire. That's what the recruitment team told me, anyway. But you're a really good guy." 

Hux froze up when he felt Drathur press a kiss to the top of his head. 

"Even if you are a little unruly at times, ya? Still can't believe what you did to Samas. He doesn't seem too fussed about it, though," Drathur shrugged, releasing Hux from his embrace. "I guess there's some social attitudes I don't quite understand yet." 

" _Clearly_ ," Hux resmoothed the top of his hair. "You'll get the hang of it all sooner or later." 

 

 

Lockdown had entered its third hour, and was now about to pass the fifteen minute mark of that third hour. Dormitory room 367B consisted of Darin Subaltyrn, who had chewed the fingernails on his left hand down to a worrying level and was beginning work on the right; Trentias Pault, who had managed to get fifteen minutes of sleep at the two-and-a-half hour mark before being woken up and was now absolutely livid; and Markus DiGarza, who was becoming restless and had been the one to wake up Trentias by tossing pieces of the long-destroyed fire alarm at him until it elicited the response he desired.   
(Waking him up and pissing him off.) 

"I hate this! How long can these kriffing asteroids fall from the sky for?!" Trentias whined, beating the pillow on Hux's bunk with both hands. "I need to piss! I need to get out of this kriffing room!" 

"It c-can't be much longer now," Darin said from where he was sitting on the floor. His entire being emanated weariness. "I hope Armitage and Drathur are okay." 

"You've hoped that at least five times already in the past twenty minutes, Stickler. Don't think nothin' has changed since the last time." Markus told him – he was flicking his lighter on and off, dancing his index and middle fingers over the naked flame. 

"Saying it out loud makes me, uh, feel a little better. I don't know why." 

"I hate you both so much," Trentias groaned into the pillow he had been punching. "I can't wait until war games arrive so I can kill you both." 

"That's _real_ cute." 

"You, uh, you know we don't actually get _real_ weaponry during war--" 

"Shut. Up. AT-AT." 

"Aw, what's the matter? Realisin' how badly daddy kriffed you over? How badly he kriffed us all over?" 

"I don't need _you_ to tell me my father kriffed me over, so _shut up_." 

"Or what? Whaddaya gonna do, you petulant little scrag-end?" Markus snorted. "You gonna _cry_ at me?" 

"Why didn't you just let me sleep?! I wish they'd thrown you in prison as well, you kriffing _ratch_!" 

"Guys! This is bad enough without you two fighting!" Darin yelled. "Just _stop it_!" 

Silence finally fell over the room, except for Darin's slightly-nervous panting. Markus regarded the normally meek boy with some interest. Trentias only huffed and laid back down on Hux's bed, burying his head into the pillow in his arms. 

Darin, face stern, mouthed 'apologise!' at Markus and gesturing to Trentias with his head. Markus raised his eyebrows and mouthed back something that made Darin flush.   
So. That wasn't happening, then. 

Just then, every light in the room returned to life, as well as the buttons on the door control panels. 

**[LOCKDOWN SESSION COMPLETE – EMERGENCY SHIELDING NO LONGER REQUIRED. POWER RETURNED TO ALL SECTORS.]**

Darin opened his eyes after squeezing them shut from the sudden burst of light, still in slight disbelief that it was really over. He'd adapted to the darkness and lack of movement. Now it was like the lockdown had never happened.   
The room was still quiet. Trentias sat up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"Four years," he mumbled to himself whilst climbing down the bunk and heading for the refresher. "Four kriffing years." 

The door closed behind him and silence fell over the room again. Markus' eyes were on the closed refresher door, and Darin thought that maybe he was going to apologise.   
He didn't understand how the relationship between Trentias and Markus had gone from 'outright fear' to 'outright hatred'. Was it something he'd missed? 

"Well," Markus stretched himself out before dropping himself from his bunk on to the floor. "I'm gonna go stretch my legs."  

"Markus--!" 

"Lemme know if Crimson and Bubbly turn up, yeah?" 

He was gone before Darin could get in another word. The tallest of the group sighed and stood up from his position on the floor, stretching his arms and legs out and then wondered if he should wait for Trentias to re-emerge before leaving to look for Hux and Drathur, or if he should give him some space.   
Hux had always said that Trentias made him 'as far from sympathetic as he could be', but Darin couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him, even if he did bully him around. He was very obviously miserable. He'd even admitted that his father had screwed him over after defending him only hours earlier. 

He cried a lot, but he hated being comforted. He hated being called out on the fact that he cried. 

"Oh. You're still here." 

Trentias stood in the doorway of the refresher, looking only a little worse for wear and figure somewhat small despite being fairly tall himself. 

"Yeah. I was waiting for you – in case you, uh, wanted to come look for Armitage and Drathur with me." 

"I..." the blonde sighed, then shrugged. "sure. Why not." 

"… You know, uh, Trentias, if you ever need to talk to someone--" 

"Don't ruin it, AT-AT. Let's just get having to deal with Hux in our lives again over with." 

 

 

367B as a whole didn't regroup until after classes were over for the day – Trentias and Darin did indeed meet back up with Hux and Drathur (who attempted to hug them both and was met with horror by Trentias, who wriggled from the grasp almost immediately), but Markus didn't resurface, even during the classes they all had together.   
Darin was inwardly worried, but didn't voice the concerns to the rest of the group. He didn't want Trentias firing up again. 

"It's nearly lights out," Drathur said that night, pulling on a nightshirt. "what if he gets locked out of the dorm? There's been so much locking today." 

"He's been here for four months – if the idiot doesn't know what time lights out is at this point, he's a lost cause." Trentias snapped. 

Hux shot Darin a questioning look, which the latter replied to by mouthing 'not now'. 

"You don't have to be so mean about it, Trentias. He's still part of the group, ya?" 

"Part of the group until he graduates and eventually kriffs us all over, yeah," Trentias laughed, frustratedly. "A real team player, Markus DiGarza--" 

He then found himself face-to-face with the aforementioned Markus DiGarza, who had just returned to the dorm room for the first time since lockdown had ended earlier. The heir wore an irritated expression, but also radiated a jadedness for the situation at hand. 

"Nice to see you too, sweetheart." 

"I'm not your kriffing sweetheart." 

"Mother of kriffin' moons, it's just a nickname. Guess you didn't get your beauty sleep yet, huh?" 

"It's not like you'd let me have five minutes of peace anyway, DiGarza." 

"If you're both done?" Hux interjected before more barbs could be tossed. "I'm quite ready to sleep this day off. It seems like you both should do the same." 

Trentias humph-ed and turned on his heel, heading for his bunk. Markus rolled his eyes and stepped into the refresher.   
As soon as the door was shut, Hux looked to Trentias. 

"What in all of the stars is going on between you two? This is worse than usual." 

"Leave me alone, Hux!" Trentias snapped, burying himself underneath his bedclothes. That was, apparently, the end of that.   
Darin only shrugged before climbing into his bunk. He looked tired. 

Perhaps it was for the best they didn't all make it back to the dorm that day, Hux thought. Drathur gave him a soft smile and headed to bed himself.   
Stars, help them all. This was only four months in. Either things would improve or somebody would end up killing someone else before their second year was completed. 

Hux's eyes met Markus' once he stepped out of the refresher, already half-dressed into his nightclothes, trying to coax some sort of answer out of him. All he did was shake his head, although his eyes did linger on the lump of blankets that was currently Trentias Pault for a moment before climbing into his bunk. 

Hux didn't bother asking for confirmation to turn the last of the lights out. 

The silence was absolutely suffocating, but nobody was prepared to talk to anybody else. Hux nearly went as far as turning the lights back on and demanding an explanation, but then, finally, something began to fill the air: Drathur singing.   
Too kind for his own good. It was more and more like 'too good for all of them' as the days went on. Still, his position as the one decent thing in the group was important. The peacekeeper. 

"<~ _A ballad for boys caught in storms of stars_    
_A-brush with anger, a-hush with regret_    
_The sky shines purple! The rain falls down_    
_Beautiful chaos but not a bit wet_    
_If we stay the course we shall sail far_    
_But how does a man sail under the stars?_  

 _A song for_ _soldiers_ _under crashing ash_    
_A-waiting orders, a-_ _longing_ _home_    
_The sky can't be read! A proud pretty thing_    
_Spits out her raindrops of fire and stone_    
_If we stay the course we shall all survive_    
_But a smothered harmony is not one that thrives_  

 _A ballad for boys caught in storms of stars_    
_A-brush with anger, a-hush with regret_    
_The sky shines purple! The rain falls down_    
_Beautiful chaos but not a bit wet_    
_For the boys who destroy, for_ _the boys who weep -_    
_A song for the boys who want only to sleep._ ~ >"  

Do'liithian was a language full of slow, mouth-wide-open words and intricate shifts in tone. A slow language from a planet with long, slow days filled with acts that required patience.   
A perfect language for lullabyes, Drathur's mother had told him before she sang him to sleep at night. The language of the peacekeeper. 


End file.
